


P.S.L.

by KissMyAsthma



Category: Kasabian
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, author is fed up with heat and can't wait for autumn, basic bitches, just making coffee and being cute, tomerge - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 05:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissMyAsthma/pseuds/KissMyAsthma
Summary: Tomerge being cute while making a ripoff starbucks drink.





	P.S.L.

**Author's Note:**

> I really needed some cute domestic fluff with #EstablishedRelationship tomerge, and I can't wait for autumn and making flavoured coffee at home so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ here it is, enjoy
> 
> As always, thanks to @leukozyna, the best ever beta that I don't deserve but I really need

"...whyyyy is it taking so looooong," whined Tom, hugging Sergio from behind and wrapping his arms around the taller man's middle.

"Because I'm making it from scratch, that's why. I have to steam the pumpkins, grind the spices, whisk the whipped cream..." Sergio started to recite all of the steps, but Meighan cut in.

"We could've bought some canned puree, you wouldn't have to fuck around with that," said the man, looking at the stove with the steaming pot on it.

"Ew, no!" protested Pizzorno. "If I already have to make this bullshit drink myself, I'm gonna make it properly."

"It's not like you h a v e to... We could grab a coffee in town..." Thomas pointed out, but protest followed on his lover's part.

"I'm not letting you drink that sugary abomination ever again. No way." Disgust was visible on Sergio's face when he thought back to a well-known coffee brand's seasonal drink, and its awfully artificial taste.  
Tom, however, seemed to like that cup of liquid sugar, and that was why Pizzorno had chosen to make a homemade, healthier version - just to please his sugar-loving lover. 

"Alright," sighed Thomas, cuddling against Serge's back and sniffing the scent of washing detergent mixed with cigarette smoke. "Can I at least help you somehow?" 

"Are you really such a desperate teenage girl in uggs that you can't wait for a goddamn drink?" 

"No, I'm just bored, and if you don't want me to bother you, you should find me something to do," said Tom, "or I will entertain myself in a different way."

Pizzorno couldn't see the mischevous grin that appeared on his mate's lips, but he definitely could feel two hands slipping under his hoodie.

"Get away with these!" he tried to scold him, but he also couldn't stop a smile while he was grabbing Tom's hands to get them out from under his clothes. "If you're so willing to help, you can put the mixing bowl and the whisk in the fridge," commanded the taller man. 

Meighan squeezed his hand and placed a quick peck on his cheek, and in the next moment he was already squatting by the base cabinet and banging around the pots, pans and bowls, looking for the mentioned items.

"A /metal/ mixing bowl," Serge chimed in, as he was searching in the drawer for the appropriate spices - cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg. 

With a lound clank! beforehand, Tom, who has an attention spam of a goldfish, asked, "What was I supposed to do with that?" 

"Put it in the fridge!" Serge reminded him, fishing out the mortar and pestle from the cupboard over the oven.

Taking a break from messing around with the spices, he took a fork to check if the steaming pumpkin was tender enough - and it was, so Sergio turned off the heat and got the orange pieces out of the pot, to let them cool down.

And that's when he heard a loud THUD! from the area by the fridge.

"....What was that, Tom?" 

"Nothing you should be worried about!" a cheerful voice assured him, so Sergio decided to ignore it - though he wasn't sure about it being a wise decision.

"Anything more I could do, love?" 

"Fetch me a bottle of maple syrup, and milk, please."

"You want a straw with that?" Tom smirked, content with his joke and the quiet snort he heard from his friend.

"Yeah, not really, it's not like you gonna drink a hot drink with that." Serge rolled his eyes, even though he knew well what Thomas meant by that. "And we need this pumpkin puréed, do you want to do this or would you rather grind the spices?"

"I would rather grind on something else, actually," said the shorter man, setting the bottles on the table, and right after that he clung to his partner once again. "The kitchen is going to be messy anyway, we could as well..." the evocative tone was cut off quickly.

"No, we couldn't," laughed Sergio, again trying to free himself from his man's grip, "come on, Tom, sometimes I just really don't know what you crave more, sugar or sex."

"Why not both? I like both." declared the man, and Pizzorno grinned again.

"I know that very well. But for now, let's go back to making our coffee. Can you turn on the coffee maker?"

"You think telling it I like its modern design and round buttons will work?"

"Absolutely."

With another laugh, Sergio came back to the still warm pieces of pumpkin; he drew out a fine sieve from a cabinet and pressed the vegetable through it, creating a vibrant-orange purée.

The next step was to grind the spices - so he put them in the mortar and started to grind, grind, grind.... Until something caught his attention.

The sound of spraying.

And then, the sight of spraying.

Tom spraying a can of whipped cream directly into his mouth.

"What the fuck, Thomas!" 

"What?! Relax, I'm gonna leave you some for the coffee!" promised Tom, not getting the outrage on his lover's face.

"I don't want that in my coffee, I'm gonna make whipped cream myself!"

"So what's the big deal!?!?"

Sergio opened his mouth in shock.

"You can't do that!... How even can you do that, this shit is nauseatingly sweet," complained Sergio, and Tom gave him the brightest of smiles.

"Well, it's good that you don't have to eat it then!"

"You don't have to do it either. You were supposed to help me over here!"

"Okay love, I'm doing it right now!... What should I do?" asked Tom, before he sprayed the last one portion of whipped cream into his mouth.

Sergio sighed heavily and pointed at the mortar and pestle. "Grind..." he started, but he wasn't allowed to end the sentence - because a blue-eyed bastard whom he loved the most kissed him, lips sweet and sticky from the whipped cream.

"We're not gonna finish it if you keep stopping us." noticed Sergio with a smile, sliding his tongue over his upper lip, to taste the sweetness Tom left there. "You're insufferable."

In response Thomas gave him a wide grin.

"I know you love me."

"I might as well." 

With one last kiss, Tom finally let go of his lover and got to crushing up spices. 

"Wouldn't it be easier to use ground cinnamon, and other ready-made things?" asked Meighan, mentally preparing for a tirade about primacy of freshly ground spices over store-bought ones, but surprisingly - Sergio agreed with him.

"Yup, and these wouldn't stick between your teeth either, but I forgot to buy them, and I had a stash of these since last Christmas." admitted the taller man with a shrug. "But the freshly ground ones smell way better anyway, so...."

For a moment both men fell silent - Tom focused on grinding the spices to the finest state possible, with Serge making the espressos and setting up the standing mixer with prechilled utensils. 

He put the sugar and the heavy cream in a bowl, set the mixer to a low setting and started whisking. In the meantime, the man put the milk and the pumpkin purée in the pot and turned on the stove. Serge added the maple syrup, stirred the mixture, then turned around to Tom, who handed him a mortar with finely crushed spices - visibly proud of how well he managed to do his task. The dark-haired man mixed in the cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and a tiny bit of salt and stirred the content of the pot.

The aroma of pumpkin spice was filling the kitchen, and even Tom appeared right next to Sergio, sniffing the amazing smell.

"Pour the coffee in and stir it occasionally," Pizzorno said, handing his lover a spoon, "don't let it boil!"

With these instructions, Tom supervised their coffee, which smelled even better than before; his mate, meanwhile, set the mixer to a high speed and made sure he would get some properly whipped cream, not butter.

Not a long moment later, Thomas turned off the stove and Sergio switched off the mixer.

"Get us the biggest mugs," asked the taller man, scooping up a tiny bit of the whipped cream with his finger and tasting it. 

"How is it?" the mugs clinked when Tom put them on the table, and before he got the answer, the man rushed to get as close as possible to the bowl with cream, because obviously, he had to try it himself. "Hey, it's actually sweet!"

"Of course it is, you silly, it's whipped cream," said Sergio, pouring the coffee into the mugs, "it has to be sweet. Maybe not as sugary as the store bought one, but still. Now give me that, before you eat it all and get sick."

After reclaiming the bowl, Pizzorno garnished their drinks with elegant, round scoops of the whipped cream and, the perfectionist he was, he sprinkled a bit of leftover spice mix on the top, to make it look inviting.

"I can't decide if it looks better or smells better" confessed Tom, hands already on his mug.

"I advise you to try it first, maybe the taste is gonna be the best part," said Sergio with a little smile, and both men took the first sips of their drinks.

After making almost a sexual noise of pleasure, Tom smacked and licked his lips to get the leftover whipped cream.

"This is amazing. I love it when you cook."

"It wasn't any proper cooking, just preparing a fancy coffee." shrugged Serge, being all humble, but his lover knew better. 

"My little barista." murmured Tom, wrapping his arm around Sergio's waist, and enjoying the heartwarming sight of his friend's mocking grin. 

"Barista my ass..." 

"We'll get to that later." promised the blue-eyed man, slowly sipping his coffee. "You know what? This is great, but a little bit of sugar wouldn't hurt."

"Bloody hell... Here we go again. You ate so much whipped cream already that it should be enough for a bucket of jet black coffee." The complaint was followed by a heavy sigh. "I really don't want you to get diabetes, love."

"Thanks for caring, darling. And for the coffee, it's delicious."

"Even without an extra sweetener?"

"Actually..." Tom rose on his toes to get to Serge's face and he kissed him, getting rid of the taller man's white, creamy moustache. "...I think this will do."


End file.
